


A Prison that I Build Myself

by Cynicwithroseglasses



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Eating Disorders, Found Family, Harvey and Mike are a Dynamic Duo - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Mike Ross Has An Eating Disorder - Freeform, Mostly follows main canon events, Protective Harvey, Starts in Season 2, What would Suits be without lots of Shits and Goddammits, lots of profanity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:35:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynicwithroseglasses/pseuds/Cynicwithroseglasses
Summary: Mike Ross has a problem, one he's successfully avoided for years, but now that Jessica knows that he's not a lawyer, Mike's old secret comes back to haunt him. He tries to fight it, but this secret can't be kept away a lawsuit. His secret could catch up with Mike before his life as a fraud does because Mike Ross has an eating disorder, and there's nothing worse than a battle with yourself.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	A Prison that I Build Myself

There are a lot of good things that can be said about the truth, but Mike isn’t so fond of it right now as he readies himself to deal with something he is not equipped to deal with no matter how smart he supposedly is. When chaos strikes, he tends to go from fine to panicked in two seconds flat. Harvey always rolls his eyes at Mike’s panic, but he can bet that Harvey isn’t rolling his eyes at this. They’re in this together, and this shit threatens them both.

Mike feels sick, but he’s also starving. He hasn’t since his dinner with Jessica, and he was lucky that he even got that. Being an associate at one of the best law firms in New York doesn’t give a lot of time for sitting down and having a meal. _Although, I might not be an associate for long with how things are going._ His stomach has been unsettled ever since Jenny had told him that Trevor had revealed his dirty little secret, and his head is foggy with all the panic that consumes him. He’s smart enough to have known that this day was going to come. It was only logical that he could only run away from his lies for so long, but he’s gone from feeling like he was floating in a golden chariot to feeling like he was choking on a sweaty mist.

He’s so screwed, and he doesn’t know what to do to make this alright because there’s no getting around the fact that he’s a fraud. He’s a talented fraud, but he knows the law. Being a fraud with a good excuse doesn’t make him any less of a fraud.

Instead of going straight to work, he loops around and gets a bagel. That bagel might make him late to work, but what does it matter? He’s been exposed, and he needs something to pad his stomach so the acid stops sloshing around, making him feel hollow and queasy. The carbs taste good. Too good, and he curses himself for the feelings that are reawaking in his mind. He’s been here before. He knows what happens when the food tastes too good.

He walks into work, and it feels like everyone is staring at him. They’re not. They don’t give a damn about just another guy in a suit walking through a ginormous firm. He’s not a big name that most of them would even remember. If they knew, Mike would know. Harvey would have called him. So, they can’t know, but the imagined scrutiny makes Mike sweat because any day now they may find out, and when that day comes, he’s not sure that he can deal with it.

His chest feels tight, and there’s not enough room in there for him the breathe, and for a second, he wonders if he’s going to die in the Pearson Hardman lobby because his heart is hammering in his ears, and his brain is so fuzzy that he can’t even think of Curious George like he usually does when he needs something to ground him.

Mike can’t take this anymore. He needs to get away from all the people, so he slips into the bathroom, and he’s relieved when there’s no one there. He purposely chose this bathroom because it’s tucked away in the corner of the floor, and most people choose to go to the one down the hall. He knows that he shouldn’t do what he’s about to do, but he’s locked himself in a stall before he can talk himself out of it.

The toilets at Pearson Hardman are nice, and this one still has the seat up from being cleaned, and blue cleaning solution is still in the bowl, and Mike might appreciate the fresh toilet if he didn’t feel like he was going to burst any second. He doesn’t let himself think too much before sticking his finger down his throat, and coaxing coffee and a bagel to come up. It’s like riding a bike. It takes a few minutes to get going steadily, but he doesn’t need to go back to training wheels. The bagel doesn’t come up easily, and the coffee is still warm, but he manages to empty his stomach, and feels a rush of temporary relief.

Puking isn’t going to fix anything, and he kind of hates himself for breaking his streak of not doing it, but this is a special occasion. He’s not falling off the wagon. He’s just dangling his head over the side of it. This isn’t going to become a thing. One time when his whole life is crumbling around him doesn’t mean anything. He’ll just watch his carbs. He won’t cut them entirely, but he won’t eat the bad ones. No carbs, no guilt, no puking. It’s as easy as that.

He’s splashing his face with water, tie still draped over his shoulder when Louis comes into the bathroom, and he starts saying words that Mike can barely hear over the buzzing of his brain. He doesn’t care what Louis wants to say, anyway. Right now, Louis is an annoying little rat, scurrying across his apartment while a grizzly bear is looming in the next room. _Louis is a smug bastard_ , Mike thinks, and he wonders if it takes one to know one. He’s been pretty smug himself for a fake lawyer.

Mike wants to curse Louis out and give a lengthy list of reasons why he doesn’t care what Louis has to say, but his throat is dry, and it’s easier to keep his answers curt. _Harvey can’t help you._ That sticks in Mike’s head because he and Harvey may be up against something that neither of them can get out of, and even if they can somehow squeak themselves out of the situation, something else is bound to throw them off course yet again.

“And get a mint. Because your breath is disgusting,” Louis says instead of goodbye, and Mike’s left wanting to go back into the stall and puke again, but there’s nothing left in his stomach, so he has to settle for wiping his face and hoping that he can find a stick of gum somewhere. There was a time when he never went anywhere without it. He’ll pick some up when he has a spare moment. He’s missed chewing gum.

Harvey’s tone is somber at first, but he doesn’t seem too worried when Mike comes into his office, fretting about the fact that goddamn Jessica Pearson knows that he’s a fraud. Harvey makes a joke about fleeing the country and going to Buenos Aires, and for two seconds Mike thinks he’s serious. Classic Harvey, garnishing catastrophic moments with a lilt of unwelcomed humor. Mike’s all for joking around, but in that moment with the weight of being found out sitting like an elephant on his chest, all he can see is red. He’s not in the mood to put up with Harvey’s bullshit, and he tells him as much. Harvey keeps a cool tone as Mike feels like his seconds away from completely losing it.

When Harvey tells Mike to calm down, Mike feels his anger retreat and the fluttering in his stomach march forward, stomping where food should be. He’s pacing, and he doesn’t know what the hell they’re going to do about this. He’s going to be fired, and there’s not much that Harvey can do about it because Mike’s not even a real lawyer. Even Harvey can’t convince Jessica to do something as stupid as knowingly keeping a fraud on as a lawyer.

Harvey voice grows harder as he tells Mike to have a little faith, and he’s called away to deal with Alicia Hardman dying and Mike’s left to go deal with the Swinton merger, even though he has a million other things on his mind, and dealing with a merger that was a waste of time, but maybe getting Myra Harrison out of the way would keep his mind away from the gun being held to his head. If this was his last case, he wanted it to be a win. Myra makes it harder than it has to be. She won’t take the $30,000 from Drecker Publishing, and Mike feels for her. Her boss stabbed her in the back, and that had to hurt. Harvey calls Mike out, basically tells him to do his job and keep having faith that Harvey will protect Mike. Mike’s getting tired of having faith.

He's starving too. He hasn’t eaten since his bagel, and he could go for something just to distract him from all that he’s feeling, but he doesn’t want to deal with food. If he eats when he is like this, it’s going to take him down a path that he promised he wouldn’t go down. Instead of getting lunch, he goes to see Grammy. She’s got a plate of cookies, and they’re not going to be like the ones she used to make him from scratch, but he keeps staring at them, and tells himself not to have one. The cookies distract him. They’re practically begging to be eaten, so he grabs one, and takes a bit. It’s stale, but he doesn’t care. It’s nice to taste something. To chew. To feel the food hit his unsettled stomach.

He forgets the cookies as his grandma prods him about what’s been bothering him. She does it in a way that makes him feel like he’s the one deciding to confess. She’s always been good about that and talking about the old memories lets Mike sign in relief, and he feels the tension melt from his shoulders. An idea strikes him, and he knows how he’s going to fix the Myra Harrison situation because he may not be a lawyer, but he also isn’t going to let one woman get in the way of his job.

As he leaves the nursing home, the cookies are heavy in his stomach, but he pushes past that discomfort because he’s not going to be that person who lives his life with his head over the toilet bowel. He takes his anxious energy, and he digs into the Drecker Publishing catalogs. Twenty-four hours later, he’s got the paperwork signed, and it feels satisfying to say, “Don’t threaten me or my firm ever again.” He’s going to fight for his firm and his position in it because Pearson Hardman is where he belongs. If he doesn’t work there, if he’s not a lawyer, he’s not sure what he is because the law is his life, and a man’s got to fight for his life.

When he gets back to Pearson Hardman, a whole new storm is brewing. Hardman is back, and he’s not going to make it easy for them. Harvey turns to Mike, and he says, “Go home now. Don’t come back,” and his voice is as serious as Mike’s ever heard it, so Mike retreats. This isn’t Harvey’s fault. As much as Mike’s been wanting to blame him, he knows who did this to him, and he’s going to give that person a piece of his mind because while this is mostly Mike’s fault for pretending to be a lawyer, he’s still pissed that the person who stabbed him in the back wasn’t the Harvey Specter, but it was the friend whose sword Mike had fallen on his own sword for a dozen times before.

With a hot, anxious rage coursing through his stomach, Mike calls Trevor, tells him to meet him in two hours, and he heads back to his apartment because he’s ravenous after the day he’s had. He’s not even going to let himself think about it. He’s eating, and he’s eating until he can’t eat any more. When he gets into his apartment, he forces week old pizza down his throat, and it makes his stomach flip, and he can’t shake the feeling of needing to vomit. That doesn’t stop him from trying to eat the second piece. It’s stupid. He knows it is, but even though the pizza is so old, it’s from his favorite place down the street, and there’s no sense letting it go to waste. It isn’t going to get any better. He eats it until it’s all gone, and then, even that isn’t enough, so he eats some stale cheese puffs he’s had for an undetermined amount of time. He washes it down with diet soda because he needs liquids in his stomach because he knows he’s not going to stop eating until the two options are vomit or burst.

When he’s plumped with food, he purges, and it hurts, but it’s a release from all the feelings swirling in his head. It’s nice to feel full, and it’s nice to feel empty. He knows that this behavior isn’t good. It’s not healthy, and in the long run, it’s not going to help him, but it’s something to help him get through right now. It’s just one last time. He’s not going to do this tomorrow when things are cleared up and his life isn’t so unsteady. He’ll stop. He really will. This isn’t a relapse; it’s just a necessary reprieve from recovery. Mike’s fueled up, ready to slam Trevor just like he slammed Myra Harrison, and he feels powerful. Right now, he could take on anyone, and this is why throwing up is so addictive. It makes him feel like he’s on top of the world. Like he can do anything, and when he talks to Trevor and tells him, in essence, to fuck off, that’s what he needs. When he hears Rachel’s love confession, that’s what he needs. When he’s called into the office to prove to Jessica why Harvey hired him in the first place, oh, yeah, he definitely needs it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. This story is going to follow many canon events, but it will diverge as Mike's disorders worsens. Anyways, I hope that at least one person enjoys this. Let me know your thoughts in the comments! This fic is pretty niche, but I couldn't help but want to write it. This is going to be a bumpy journey, and not everyone will get what's going on with Mike, but they'll do their best to support him.


End file.
